


use me instead

by spam_musubi



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom/sub, Feminization, Humiliation, Implied Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spam_musubi/pseuds/spam_musubi
Summary: It’s rare for the fleshlight to make an appearance - Wooyoung likes to think that San would much rather use him than a toy - and the younger blinks curiously, wondering about its purpose for today.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 15
Kudos: 189





	use me instead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Hello! I'm writing again for the first time in a very long time so please be kind. I want to thank my favorite writer to beta and the only reason I'm in this fandom to begin with [@lieanni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieanni). She's the one who inspired me to crank this one out, and encouraged me to keep going despite the numerous times I wanted to give up halfway. Thank you for believing in me and gifting me with your beautiful edits on this fic. 
> 
> There's some implied consent, and any negotiations are assumed to have happened prior to the scene, including safewords and hard limits. 
> 
> Please let me know if I'm missing anything in the tags! Enjoy~ 🤗

The ring at the base of Wooyoung’s cock whirs to life for the dozenth time in the past hour.

San’s kept him on edge since the morning. He’d collared Wooyoung and used his ass as soon as the two of them had gotten up, pumping out two loads before plugging his cum inside. As if it weren’t bad enough already, San had informed Wooyoung that he wasn’t allowed to cum. Desperate for some leniency, Wooyoung had begged for a cock ring, and miraculously, San had relented. Out of pity or kindness, Wooyoung doesn’t know. 

After securing the cock ring, San had positioned Wooyoung meticulously on the ottoman at the foot of their bed, posturing his limbs as if Wooyoung was San’s personal mannequin. He had the audacity, then, to up and leave with a curt “stay put.” The unspoken _or else_ hung in the air, circling Wooyoung’s brain and suffocating his urge to squirm.

At the moment, he’s right where San left him - on his knees, joints aching from the awkward stiffness of his position. The leather upholstery is plush under his knees, but his heels keep bumping the plug, the fullness bliss and torture all-in-one. Thankfully, he isn’t tied up, but it definitely makes staying put a self-enforced effort.

San’s command had been easy enough to follow for the first few minutes. But time has since stretched into seemingly endless hours, and when Wooyoung discovers that the cock ring fucking _vibrates_ , he decides that it definitely wasn’t out of pity or kindness that San gave him this specific ring. 

Wooyoung doesn’t know where San has fucked off to, but he has a suspicion that the older is still somewhere nearby. It’s as if San can see his every move; every time Wooyoung starts to relax, thinking that it’s finally over, the cock ring starts vibrating again. Wooyoung knows it’s not possible, but the vibrations seem to get stronger each time. Precum beads at his tip and drips down his length; the sensations around his cock make him clench around the plug inside his ass, the wet squelching noises a harsh reminder of how dirty and used his hole is. 

Wooyoung’s been penduluming between half hard and fully erect for what feels like a few hours now, evidenced by the angry red-purple of his leaking cock. His body thrums with anticipation, his hands curled into fists on his knees to keep himself from doing anything that might make San unhappy. The last thing Wooyoung wants is to do something that warrants punishment; the last time he’d misbehaved, his ass had ached for _days_ after. He shivers at the recollection, body tingling from the phantom pain that ghosts over his skin. He’d cum harder than ever that day, and although the memory of the angry red welts offer a sore reminder to follow instructions, the prospect of a stinging spanking had fresh excitement coiling at the pit of his stomach. 

He’s momentarily distracted by the sight of his precum dripping down onto the ottoman, his thoughts drifting to how he’ll have to clean it up later. Unfortunately for Wooyoung, the slip-up is enough for him to lose his grip, and the vibrations on his cock and the plug in his ass suddenly become all too much. It feels like his body has been set aflame, and pitiful blabbers pour out of his mouth.

“San, ’m so close, pleaseplease _please—_ ”

The stimulation is too direct, too much for Wooyoung to handle, and it’s _relentless_. Waves of ecstasy crash into him, and he’s so caught up in the ebbs of pleasure that he almost forgets to beg. The way that Wooyoung still manages to ask San for permission, even when his mind feels completely fogged over with pleasure, is testament to the control San holds over him, how often San pushes him expertly to the brink of pleasure and pain, manipulating the line until Wooyoung can no longer separate the two. 

The vibrations finally stop, but it’s too late. The tension that’s been building up below Wooyoung’s abdomen all morning is gone now; his bones feel like jello, and he’s sure that he’ll collapse any moment now. The thin sheen of sweat on his body sticks to him, tacky and gross, and shame settles deep in his chest when he glimpses down to see the puddle of his own cum, milky white against the soft black leather. 

He feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Wooyoung wasn’t a good boy, and now San is going to have to punish him and it’s all _his own goddamned fault_. The door clicks open, signaling San’s arrival, and the thick mixture of embarrassment and dread that settles in Wooyoung’s chest makes him want to curl up into a ball. Wooyoung doesn’t want to disappoint, not again, so he sits up straighter, spreads his knees apart, and sticks his ass out in a way he hopes conveys apology. Wooyoung blinks back his tears, but it doesn’t stop the chill of apprehension that courses through his veins. 

Maybe San can sense how close he is to hyperventilating, or maybe he’s feeling more merciful than usual, but he brushes a soothing hand over Wooyoung’s head and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. With a small sigh, San bends down, bringing himself eye-level with the younger. His gaze is piercing, and Wooyoung fights the overwhelming urge to shy away from the intense stare. 

San looks down at Wooyoung’s softening cock, and Wooyoung’s eyes track the older’s movements as San swipes two fingers through the cooling emission. 

“Look at this mess you made.” Frowning, San’s lips pull down in a small pout, and he shakes his head with disappointment. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Wooyoung starts, but the words are cut off when San pushes his dirtied fingers past the younger’s lips. Wooyoung moans against the intrusion, suckling at the digits eagerly, his own cum bitter against his tongue. Too soon, San draws back, wiping his spit-slick fingers on Wooyoung’s bare skin. San trails the wetness along Wooyoung’s jaw, then down the column of his neck; he circles around Wooyoung’s right nipple and settles there.

“You’re such a filthy _slut_.”

San accents the statement with a rough pinch to the younger’s nipple, pulling painfully and drawing a moan from Wooyoung. Wooyoung whimpers when San releases his nipple, his body well-trained to seek the pain. 

“Do you know what you did wrong?” The older boy’s hands run along Wooyoung’s body, tilting his head from side to side, fingering his collar, inspecting the arch of his back, sweeping down his arms and across his torso, sliding down his thighs, and ghosting past his cock. Wooyoung can’t get the gears in his brain to work, and San slaps Wooyoung’s cock sharply to get his attention. Wooyoung cries out at the sensation, his cock twitching with a valiant effort to get hard again, as he searches his mind for the right answer. 

“’M not suppos’d to cum. C-can’t cum without your permission.” 

San hums, bringing a hand back to thumb at Wooyoung’s slit. The friction is exquisitely painful, and Wooyoung can’t help the moan that slips past his lips. 

“So why did you cum?” 

A fresh wave of tears threatens to spill as the shame returns. San pushes the younger down onto all fours, manhandling him until he deems Wooyoung’s stance satisfactory. The ottoman is small, and Wooyoung’s feet dangle off the edge. Often, Wooyoung wonders if San actually cares about how he looks, or if the older just enjoys the feeling of control, but it’s easy not to fuss over details when the attention makes Wooyoung feel as good as he does. 

The hands that touch him are stimulating, tweaking at his nipples and feathering over his crotch. It doesn’t take long before Wooyoung’s cock is half-hard again, twitching from the over-stimulation. San’s hands don’t stop moving until they reach Wooyoung’s ass, the loud smack that lands on the soft flesh reverberating through the room. 

“Answer me, bitch. This is twice now, don’t make it three times.” San’s voice is dangerously low, and Wooyoung’s skin pebbles from the obvious warning in the older’s words. 

“Ah! I’m s-sorry,” Wooyoung whimpers. San’s circling the plug now, fingertips light and feathery around Wooyoung’s stretched hole, and Wooyoung’s having trouble forming coherent sentences. “Couldn't, c-couldn’t help it, was so, ngh—you gave me so much, too much.”

San raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying it was my fault? I don’t think I should take the blame for you being such a cockslut.” He accents his words with yet another harsh slap, and Wooyoung yelps, squirming haplessly beneath him. “Is it my fault that you’re such a filthy fucking _whore_?” 

“N-no! That’s not what I meant!” Wooyoung cries, regret instantly washing over him. San ignores him, gripping the plug in his fist and jerking the toy out in one sweeping motion. Wooyoung gasps loudly at the sudden emptiness, and it takes all of his concentration to keep from collapsing as his arms tremble from exertion. 

“Look at you, so loose and ready for my cock.” San swipes at the cum that’s oozing from his hole before pushing it back in with two - no, three fingers, and Wooyoung can _hear_ just how filthy and wet he is, the dirty squelch of his ass deafening even to his own ears. With his free hand, San reaches down to remove the cock ring, and Wooyoung’s cock fills eagerly from the sudden relief. Within seconds, Wooyoung’s fully erect. 

“Please, yes, please—ungh, want your cock, need it.” 

San steps away, pacing around Wooyoung. The younger quivers on his hands and knees, acutely aware of San’s attention. San purses his lips in mock consideration, tilting his head to the side, and Wooyoung fidgets under the intensity of his gaze. 

“That’s too bad, because I don’t think you deserve it.” 

The whine that claws its way out of Wooyoung’s throat is needy and desperate. 

“No, no, please, I need you, _please_.” 

San sneers at Wooyoung as the younger pushes his ass up higher in the air, desperately presenting himself to the older. 

Unaffected, San turns around and walks to his nightstand, rummaging around until he finds the objects he’s searching for. He returns to where Wooyoung is still kneeling, setting the items at the foot of their bed. Glancing away from San, Wooyoung can see what the older boy has retrieved: some rope, a bottle of lube, and a fleshlight. It’s rare for the fleshlight to make an appearance - Wooyoung likes to think that San would much rather use him than a toy - and the younger blinks curiously, wondering about its purpose for today. 

San grabs Wooyoung’s arms and crosses them behind his back, setting him upright so that the younger has a clear view of the bed. San taps his shoulders lightly, signaling for Wooyoung to hold the pose so his hands clasp at opposite elbows. San turns back towards the bed, where he picks up the rope and runs his hands over the soft material. 

“I don’t think you deserve anything at all. I didn’t even ask that much of you, and yet you still managed to disappoint me. I’ll be nice today since it was a new toy, but I still have to punish you for letting me down.” 

Wooyoung’s sniffles fill the air. He knows he needs to be punished, but it’s never a good feeling knowing he’s disappointed San. 

San walks behind Wooyoung, letting the rope trail behind him. The younger gulps, his pulse racing feverishly under his skin. Wooyoung feels San’s breath ghost over his ear as the older crouches down, wrapping a hand loosely around his throat. 

“You know your safeword, baby?” 

Wooyoung nods. The hand around his neck squeezes gently, patient but unrelenting. 

“Use your words, Youngie. I need to make sure that you know your safeword and you’ll use it if you need to.”

“P-purple,” Wooyoung’s voice is hoarse already, so he clears his throat and repeats himself. “My safeword is purple.”

“Good boy.”

Wooyoung flushes with pleasure at the praise; really, the effect that a mere two words have on him is ridiculous.

San gets to work tying the ropes, securing Wooyoung’s crossed arms behind his back. The rope runs past Wooyoung’s ankles, and he feels San pause for a moment, giving Wooyoung enough time to safeword if he wants. San’s fingers move with practiced surety, knotting the restraints between Wooyoung’s arms and legs. The younger boy tests the tightness and realizes that he has enough space to be relatively comfortable, but he can’t move from his spot without significant effort. 

San gets up, and in one swift motion, he pulls his shirt off. He’s just out of reach, and Wooyoung whimpers pitifully, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he tries to stretch towards San without losing his balance. He miscalculates, however, and falls forwards into San crotch, nuzzling desperately despite the rough scratch of San’s zipper against his cheek. 

San coos at him. “Poor baby, do you need my help?”

The fingers that brush back Wooyoung’s bangs are gentle, but the words that follow are far from it. 

“So desperate for my cock, huh? I bet you’d do anything to get all your holes filled, you stupid bitch.” 

_Only if it’s you_ , Wooyoung thinks, but the words don’t come out; he’s too busy mouthing at the cloth covering the only thing he can think about right now. San unzips his pants, and Wooyoung surges forward, sopping San’s briefs with his saliva. San’s hard length pushes up against the thin fabric, desperate to be freed; Wooyoung is equally desperate, dizzy with desire to get underneath the material. 

Wooyoung rubs his face against San’s erection, the heady musk making his head spin, and small whimpers bubble up past his lips. His own needy cock bobs against his stomach, hot and leaking. 

“Since I’m feeling generous today, I’ll give you a small reward.”

San steps out of his pants and briefs, but holds Wooyoung’s chin in his hand firmly, keeping the younger from sinking down on the cock in front of him. 

Wooyoung nods fervently, willing to agree to anything that will let him get the taste of San on his tongue. As soon as San lets go, Wooyoung takes San’s entire length into his mouth, sucking with frenzy, the slick sounds of saliva and precum permeating through the air. Letting gravity do some of the work for him, Wooyoung eases forward some more; he’s not satisfied until he feels San hit the back of his throat. His nose is pressed against San, surrounding him in the dizzying scent of soap-clean skin. 

San rocks into the heat of Wooyoung’s mouth and groans, and Wooyoung latches on to the sound, pleased that he's able to draw a noise like that from the older. The weight of San’s cock in his mouth is enough to thicken the fog that blankets his mind, the sheer dominance of it pushing him deeper into subspace. Fingers tangle in Wooyoung’s hair as San fucks his mouth slowly, the rhythm devastatingly steady and not nearly enough. 

Swallowing around the length, Wooyoung tries to move his head back and forth along San’s cock in time with the older’s thrusts, but the restraints make it near impossible. With the way San is moving, Wooyoung thinks that maybe the older is close, but after a few more harsh thrusts, San pulls out completely.

Soft, plaintive whines fill the air, and it takes Wooyoung some time to realize that the sounds are coming from him. He’s not too sure what he’s even saying, something along the lines of “no, please” and “wan’ your cum” and “wanna make you feel good.” 

San _tsks_ at him, eyes disdainful and eyebrows knitting in a slight frown.

Wooyoung’s stomach drops. 

For a moment, Wooyoung is afraid that San is going to leave him alone, again, and the thought alone is enough to push tears to the corners of his eyes. The fleshlight, long discarded from Wooyoung’s thoughts, is suddenly present in San’s hands. Wooyoung is filled with a sinking sense of despair.

“I couldn’t cum from your filthy whore mouth, and I doubt that your loose cunt is any better.” San shakes his head mockingly, like Wooyoung is defective, a broken fucktoy that can’t even serve its only purpose. 

Wooyoung purses his lips, blinking rapidly to hide the sting in his eyes. His bottom lip trembles, and a sad whimper sounds out from his chest. 

“So, now I have to take matters into my own hands. You’ve really let me down today.” 

San sits at the edge of the bed, and Wooyoung‘s not sure whether he loves or hates the front-row seat he has. Wooyoung’s hole clenches; as if it's developed some Pavlovian response, it puckers as he peers over the edge of the bed, eyes focused on San as the older loosely fists his own cock. The cap of the bottle _clicks_ loudly, the sounds of wetness from the lube accentuating San’s actions as he slides the fleshlight down onto his length. 

The sound of San’s moans, breathy and delicious, fill Wooyoung with an unexpected jealousy. Wooyoung growls, and frustration courses through him as he watches San’s eyes slip shut, making his chest tighten achingly. The filthy squelching noises that fill the room fuel Wooyoung’s despair until he’s a writhing mess against the ropes, trying anything and everything to get even an inch closer to San. 

_I’ll be good_ , Wooyoung wants to plead, _use me instead_. He knows he’s just a cockslut, but he’s a _good_ cockslut. He can make San happy and sated, and he’s _definitely_ better than some shitty fleshlight. 

It _hurts_ to watch San fuck something that isn’t him, inanimate or not, and the twinge of inadequacy that spears through him spurs him to action. Wooyoung reasons that he can move his restrained body close enough so that if he leans forward just a bit, he’ll be able to fall against San’s legs. Plan in mind, he shuffles forward with all the strength that he can muster. By the end of it, Wooyoung is exhausted, but it’s worth it when he can finally nuzzle against the soft skin of San’s bare thigh. Watching San rut into the fleshlight so up-close is confusing; Wooyoung’s still painfully hard, but the words _that should be me_ spin in his mind and prick at his watering eyes. 

San observes the younger through half-lidded eyes, vision shrouded by the haze of his own pleasure. He’s been holding back his orgasm for a while, but seeing Wooyoung so needy for him, content with even the smallest point of contact, fills him with bliss. The view is addictive, and it pushes him over the edge. 

The moans that escape San as he cums cut painfully through Wooyoung, enough to force a few stray tears down his cheeks. He pushes his face harder into the flesh of San’s legs, and his whimpers turn into quiet mewls as he begs for forgiveness and attention. 

San heaves a spent breath and he finally unsheathes himself from the toy, a few glops of his cum oozing out onto his softening cock. He swipes softly at the wetness on Wooyoung’s cheeks. 

“You still good, Young-ah? Do you need a break?” 

Wooyoung shakes his head, murmuring a quick “Still good, Sannie, don’t need a break.” San nods, reassured by the words, but keeps a gentle hand on Wooyoung’s scalp. 

“Well, since I’m feeling oh-so-generous today, how about this?” San’s foot slides over Wooyoung’s still-leaking cock, toeing at the precum beading at the tip before sliding down the length, punching a loud groan from the younger. 

“If you can get me hard again, I’ll put it in your ass.” San pauses, a slight smile tugging at his lips from the bright excitement on Wooyoung’s face. “But only if you get me hard, and you can’t cum before I do,” he warns.

Wooyoung nods enthusiastically - _anything_ to have San focus on him and forget about that fucking fleshlight.

Wiggling his shoulders as a reminder of his restraints, Wooyoung looks up at San with imploring eyes. “Can you untie me, please? I think…I think I’ll do better if I can use my hands. Please?”

Stroking his fingertips along Wooyoung’s cheek, San silently considers for a short moment. Then, he stands up and moves behind the kneeling boy and releases the knots of rope. 

As soon as his limbs are free, Wooyoung stretches forward with renewed eagerness. He licks a long stripe down San’s softened length; he’s shaking from exertion after being tied up for so long, and he presses his palms against San’s thighs to hold himself up. He sucks greedily at the tip of San’s cock, chasing the taste of the older’s cum, then takes the entirety of the hardening length into his mouth. Wooyoung revels in the feeling of San growing hard in his mouth, and his own erection pulses achingly after being temporarily forgotten. 

Wooyoung sucks San’s cock like his life depends on it. It really feels like it does, with how desperately his entire being craves, _needs_ , the sensation of San inside of him. Even when San pushes him back gently, the only thing keeping Wooyoung from selfishly sinking down further is the desire to make San happy. He pulls off reluctantly with a loud _pop_. Still, it doesn’t stop him from running his lips messily along San’s cockhead, getting his face sticky with spit and cum. 

San grips his hair tightly, pulling Wooyoung back; he surveys the mess on the younger’s face, eyes glazing over as he watches Wooyoung lick his lips.

“God, look at how _wrecked_ you are. _Fuck_ , the way you make me want to take you apart, baby, you have no idea.”

 _Baby_. Wooyoung smiles contentedly at the pet name, dragging his tongue lazily through the cum that lingers at the corner of his mouth. San groans at the sight, then drags Wooyoung up by the arms and throws him roughly onto the bed. Wooyoung lands face down, and San follows closely, caging the younger against the mattress. Wooyoung tries to twist so that he can face San, but the older pushes him back down with a firm hand to the base of his neck. San slides his cock against the cleft of Wooyoung’s ass, rutting wildly, and whimpers are easily pulled from the younger’s lips by the enticing friction against his entrance. 

“Fuck, Young-ah,” San squeezes the flesh of Wooyoung’s ass in his hands, spreading his ass cheeks appreciatively.

Wooyoung moans into the mattress. His hands grip tightly at the sheets below him, as if he can somehow physically cling onto the last reserves of his sanity. His mind feels like quicksand, and any semi-formed thoughts sink away into oblivion. He’s not sure how he manages to string an understandable sentence together, but he does it somehow.

“Please, San, need you inside me. Need you- need your cock so fucking—ngh!” Wooyoung’s breath catches as San plunges two fingers deep into his ass, scissoring them widely and stretching him out. “Need your cock so bad, n-not your fingers, your cock, want your cock, _please_ —ng-ah!” Wooyoung’s cut off again when San finds the bundle of nerves inside of him and _presses_ , causing Wooyoung to thrash wildly. 

“Look at you, such a fucking whore for my cock. You’re so wet and open for me, I didn’t even need lube. Such a perfect little slut, and you’re all _mine_.” 

“Only for you, only for Sannie, only want S-Sannie’s cock,” Wooyoung gasps, another wave of pleasure flooding over him. 

Wooyoung can feel the tension building in the pit of his stomach, and he claws at the sheets around him, hoping it’ll ground him enough to stave off his climax. 

Maybe Wooyoung’s brain is too fuzzy or maybe he blacked out at some point, but San’s fingers are no longer inside him. Instead, he feels the blunt tip of San’s cock pressing at his entrance. He wiggles his ass in hopes that it’ll encourage San to hurry up, and for once, it works. San pushes in with one rapid thrust, squeezing past the tight ring of muscles so suddenly that he knocks the air out of Wooyoung. 

Each one of San’s thrusts force out a broken moan; the intensity is absolutely primal, and it brings Wooyoung ever closer to the edge. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold off until the older boy cums, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. 

San growls, pressing his body flush against Wooyoung’s, “So fucking tight, holy fuck, your ass. You’re doing so good for me, baby, fuck.” Wooyoung wants to enjoy the praise, but he’s hyper-focused on holding off his orgasm, and the way San’s hips move even more frantically now makes it difficult. 

“I’m so close, baby, just—” San groans, bottoming out before releasing deep inside of Wooyoung. That’s all the younger needs before he’s cumming, body jerking violently as he finally lets go. 

Wooyoung can feel his cum congealing underneath his stomach, probably creating an obscene mess on the sheets, but he hasn’t the energy to flip over and do something about it. He feels gentle fingers comb through his hair, soft kisses landing along his spine and dotting between his shoulders, and Wooyoung sighs with satisfaction. 

San murmurs something, too soft for the younger to process. Wooyoung feels the bed dip, and then hears the sound of water running. Seconds later, he feels a warm, wet towel wiping him down. San easily moves Wooyoung’s pliant limbs around, first unlocking the collar, then checking his wrists and ankles for rope marks, all the while making sure to carefully clean each patch of bare skin. 

After San deems his work complete, he climbs onto the bed and settles against the pillows. He reaches out and pulls Wooyoung into his lap, leaning the younger against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Wooyoung thinks, distantly, about how strange it is that the two of them are of similar stature, but San’s embrace always makes him feel so small and safe. The thought slips away, though, as fatigue engulfs him, and he’s lulled into a comforting sleep by the steady thumping of San’s heartbeat in his ears. 


End file.
